A rose in the Blight
by Sharilin
Summary: Grey Wardens Alice Cousland and Alistair Fitz-Theirin are on their journey to unite the armies of Ferelden to stop the darkspawn – and their friendship is quickly evolving into romance. Will their love either grow or wither under the hits of the Blight?
1. Prologue

**X. Prologue**

"Now tell me pup, what's wrong with the valiant descendant of the Arryn family?"

"Nothing wrong, dad," Lady Cousland answers, "I just…"

"You just refused his proposal, as you did with all men before him. I think– he was the thirty-first, wasn't he?"

She shrugs. "I'm so young, there's no hurry dad. Or do you want to get rid of me?"

The Teyrn chuckles. "Of course I'm not pup, I'm just worried about you. Ferelden is a large kingdom, yet not _that_ large. Sooner or later you'll run out of suitors."

After his and King Maric's plan to join their lineages with an unforgettable wedding that failed, he gave up with the idea to find a husband for his beloved girl. He took it as a sign that she would be the one who'd choose her own future.

"I'm looking for true love dad. Like the ones I read in novels." Her eyes shine brightly. "When I get to meet my soul mate, I know I'll recognize him immediately. That moment will be perfect. The first words we'll say to each other will be perfect. _He_ will be perfect."

Bryce stares at his fourteen year-old daughter, smiling. "I didn't know you were so romantic, pup. But, according to your description, your mother and I… We're very far from true love."

"What? No!" She leaps up, shocked. "You and mom– You're a perfect couple. Why do you say that, dad?"

"Well. Our first meeting has been definitely _not_ perfect. I awkwardly stumbled at her feet and all she could tell me was that I was a very strange man."

* * *

><p>Four years later, while wandering in the camp in Ostagar, Alice Cousland finds herself remembering how naïve she used to be. Her parents were always so supportive and patient with her, they gave her the freedom of choice she needed, even if she's not able to find that true love she desperately craved.<p>

Now they're gone, and they'll never have the chance to see their daughter getting married. Instead, she's going to become a Grey Warden – do Grey Wardens even get married?

Oh well, who cares. In fact, she doesn't care about anything but to avenge her family and to accomplish her new task: to fight the darkspawn.

"_There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out."_

Following Duncan's instructions, the noble approaches the place he pointed to her just to find two men arguing.

"I will not be harassed in this manner!" The first one, probably a mage, given the robe he's wearing, is clearly annoyed.

"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message!" the other replies sarcastically, and Alice's sight is immediately caught by him. He looks to be more or less of her same age, quite tall and with a well-built body covered by simple plate armor.

"Your glibness does you no credit." The older guy keeps barking at him.

"Here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you… the grumpy one." The woman can't help but chuckle at the lad's joke, drawing their attention on her.

"Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!" And, with that, the mage goes away, pissed.

As they remain alone, the young warrior steps towards the lady, and suddenly her heart jumps when she stares at his face. He is very handsome, with short auburn hair, a broad forehead over a pair of meaningful light brown eyes, a straight nose, and perfectly shaped thin lips.

As one of the two heirs of the Cousland family, she met several men during her life in Highever, but this is the very first time she finds someone attractive. And, Maker's breath, he sure _is_ an attractive guy.

"You know," he finally speaks to her, "One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

His sweet smile strikes right into her core, making her stomach flutter. "You…" She clears her throat, trying to get a hold of herself. "You are a very strange man."

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOTE: I know, this is the umpteenth fanfic about Alistair and the Warden's relationship… But hey, I fell in love with them so badly, I felt the need to write my own story about them. I hope you'll like it anyway. :)<strong>_


	2. Drunk

**1. Drunk**

One of the few things Eleanor Cousland managed to teach her daughter about being a good-mannered lady was that drinking ale was something not appropriate for her.

Still, the first night that the Warden spends in a tavern with her new fellows on their way to Redcliffe, they hand her a pint and she couldn't refuse , she takes a sip and it goes immediately to her head. She becomes tipsy quickly, and she senses her inhibitions giving away to the power of the alcohol.

She keeps staring at Alistair's perfect face in awe, as she always does when his gaze is focused somewhere else. They're just starting to know each other, yet, she can't help but feeling attracted by him, his sweet smile, his lovely laugh, his beautiful voice with his sexy accent, and his funny sense of humor, giving her butterflies into her stomach. While she's lost in her own licentious thought about her comrade Grey Warden, she sees him darting out his tongue to lick a remnant of beer over his thin lip, and an unknown warm begins to spread into her core.

"Hey," she speaks as she catches him alone, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"

The young man glances at her, surprised. "Not unless they were asking me for a favor. Well, there was that one time in Denerim, but those women were… not like you." He raises a brow intrigued. "Why? Is this your way of telling me you think I'm handsome?"

"You know you're handsome, Alistair."

"Maybe. It doesn't hurt to have a pretty girl say that, though. Beats being run through with a sword any day!" He chuckles. "So… is this the part where I get to say the same?"

"Not unless you don't think so." she answers with a wicked grin.

"Oh, I think so. I'll just spring it on you when it's a surprise."

Lady Cousland giggles, but her mug is half empty and she is completely drunk.

"Sooooooooo…" She approaches him, now their faces are a few inches away. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"

* * *

><p>Next morning, the Warden wakes up in the camp with no idea how she got in there and with the most terrible headache of her life. Slowly, she sits on her rear and her eyes meet Alistair's, who's standing at the other side of the fire in front of her.<p>

"Are you ok? This is your first hangover, isn't it?"

"Is it that obvious?" she asks, massaging her temples.

He nods, grinning. "Unless such shamelessness is a habit of people of Highever."

"Shamelessness…?" All of sudden the memories of the previous night come back into her mind, all the speeches about flying dogs, licking lampposts in winter and…

"_Are you having strange dreams?" he questions her._

"_Only ones where we're making mad love in my tent."_

Oh Maker's breath! Did she really say this to him?

"Oh… I'm so sorry. I…"

She senses her cheeks burning as his lips curl up into a mischievous smirk. "Did you have another interesting dream, my lady?"

_Damn it! I swear upon the Maker, I'll never drink ale in my whole life again!_


	3. Awkward

**2. Awkward**

Alistair can't stop grinning.

For the first day ever since Ostagar he feels happy. No matter how much they get tired today, how many darkspawn they'll face, how many hateful comments Morrigan will throw up at him… Nothing will spoil his mood.

"_Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"_

He would never have thought that his fellow Grey Warden would say something like this to him. And let alone of all that came after.

The very first moment he laid his eyes on her, his breath got caught in his throat: she was the most beautiful woman he ever met in his whole life. Despite what someone would think about a Chantry boy, he DID meet quite a good number of nice women. Between all the sisters at the monastery and such, no one – _no one_ – was as charming and gorgeous as Alice Cousland.

Alistair found himself trembling anxiously after that pissed mage that was talking to him left the two of them alone, so that he was somehow forced to talk to her. He wanted to kick himself right after he said that stupid line about the Blight, because he was aware that people, especially the females, usually don't appreciate his sense of humor. But, surprisingly, the lovely girl in front of him didn't react that bad – actually she never did until now. On the contrary, it looks like she really enjoys his jokes and she also keeps up with them.

Ever since that day, she took control of his thoughts. Her soft long golden hair, her perfect face, her shining amber eyes, her rosy cheeks, her full lips, her melodious voice… they're hunting him down. Not even in his wildest dream he would have imagined that she could feel the same way about him.

He knows that someone might find him attractive; of course he did fantasized about falling for a woman, and making love to her. Yet, he never really believed it would happen to him, not even after he left the Chantry. He just assumed that 'those things' were out of his reach, so that he always refused the harlots that his friends Grey Wardens tried to buy for him at the Pearl in Denerim.

"_Are you having strange dreams?"_

"_Only ones where we're making mad love in my tent."_

He almost died on his spot when Alice answered to him. She was clearly drunk, though something into her charming eyes told him she was conscious of what she was talking about. This morning, when she woke up and remembered what happened at the tavern, her lovely cheeks turned into crimson red and she hastily apologized to him, but she did not try to rectify her affirmations or to justify her behavior. She just gave him a shy smile and run away from him, embarrassed. Now she's doing her best to avoid him, walking side by side with Morrigan and her mabari. Still, from time to time he catches her glimpsing him covertly and he can't help but smirk pleased.

At some point Alistair manages to listen to the witch teasing the other Warden. "So, apparently, noble ladies like you aren't trained in drinking, are you?"

"No, we're not," she shakes her head, "And, apparently, just a pint of ale and we become too much loquacious and impudent."

"Oh, what do you mean?" Morrigan asks surprised.

"Mhmh. Never mind. Let's just say I'm grateful I did not have a second mug, otherwise I'm afraid you all would know about the curious moles I have on my chest." she mutters, "No more alcohol for me, never."

"Oh, such a shame!" The apostate giggles.

Well, Alistair was right after all, she _really_ meant what she said to him last night.

Oh Maker… what is he supposed to do now?

Despite the darkspawn's treat, despite his old Chantry beliefs, he's coming to care about her, very much indeed. And now that he's aware that his feelings might not be one-way, maybe he should say something to her. But how?

While lost into his own thoughts, Leliana approaches him, handing him a flask of fresh water. He welcomes her gesture with a smile, and then, without realizing what he's doing, he talks to her. "So… you're female, Leliana, right?"

"I am?" She fakes surprise. "That's news. When did that happen?"

"I-I–" he stammer embarrassed, "I just wanted some advice. What should I do if… if I think a woman is special and–"

"You want to woo her?" she anticipates him. "Here's a good tip: you shouldn't question her about her female-ness."

"All right, yes. Good point."

"Why do you ask? Are you afraid things will not proceed naturally?"

"Why would they?" He chuckles. "Especially when I do things like ask women if they're female."

"It adds to your charm, Alistair. You are a little awkward. It is endearing."

"So I should be awkward? Didn't you just say not to do things like that?"

"Just be yourself." She gently pats his shoulder. "You do know how to do that, don't you?"

"Be myself…" He repeats as his hand move to grab something into his satchel, a beautiful red rose he picked up in Lothering days ago. When he noticed the flower growing in that arid plot, he couldn't help but think about giving it to Alice, though he never had the heart to do so.

Perhaps that was not a bad idea after all.


	4. Spy

**3. Spy**

The sun is slowly setting beyond the horizon, its warm light spreading through the leaves of the threes and hitting their trunks pleasantly. Far from the distance, the swish of the waters of Lake Calenhad resounds like a peaceful lullaby.

Alice Cousland is strolling quietly through the little forest, her faithful mabari Sirius at her side, while she looks inattentively for some brushwood for their campfire. However, other concerns are filling her mind, since the day before after what happened at the Tower of Magi. Her trip into the Fade has been very intense, and now a lot of things have changed inside her.

Her companions, especially Morrigan, keep inquiring her curious about those particular powers she obtained in there, that allowed her to change into different powerful entities. And yes, she has to admit she really enjoyed the golem form, so strong and resistant. Still, all she can think about is the reason why she resisted to the illusion the demon Sloth created for her.

Alistair, Leliana, and even Wynne… they almost succumbed to their own dreams, while Alice didn't. Since the beginning she understood there was something wrong, as she found herself in front of Duncan, alive and triumphant over the defeated darkspawn. When they talked about it, she hastily got rid of the matter, saying that Sloth made a mistake because he should have chosen to make her meet her whole family. But, deep inside her heart, she knows that this isn't the truth.

As much as she misses her parents, her brother and the other people of Highever, and she'd do anything to have them back, now she's getting accustomed to her new life. She respects and values her own role of Grey Warden, and she cares very much about their vital mission.

For a split moment, listening to Duncan saying that Ferelden was safe thanks to them, Lady Cousland felt so proud. But there was no joy in her because something– _someone_ was missing, and that was Alistair.

They met only a few weeks ago, but Alice can't imagine her life without him anymore. He is her comrade, her confidant, her best friend… and so much more.

She has been so damn scared during all the time she spent in the Fade, without knowing where he was or if he was all right. Then, when she finally found him, she couldn't help but be a little disappointed that his own dream didn't include her. At least he did recognize her – no one else did but him – and he was genuinely happy to see her at his sister's house. Yet, that wasn't enough for Alice's poor heart.

Andraste's mercy what's happening to her? She's a warrior and she has a task to accomplish. This is not the time to have a crush on someone, especially not on a fellow Warden!

They started with innocent jokes that turned into shy flirts, both of them apparently enjoying it way too much. Then, one night Alice got drunk and she ended speeding things up – damn it, she's not able to hold down her alcohol, not at all. Anyway, her shameless drunken behavior didn't obtain any positive answer from the object of her desires, and, after the Fade, it is quite clear that Alistair doesn't have the same kind of interest towards her, and this hurts her.

Such an irony! She spent all her childhood in Highever refusing the woo of all those boys her parents introduced to her, dreaming about running away to become a mighty heroine and to have exciting adventures. Now that somehow her wishes have come to reality, she finds herself falling hopelessly for a wonderful handsome man. Serves her right!

Suddenly, the splashing sound of water nearby interrupts her train of thoughts, warning her that they got near the lakeshore. Soon her attention is caught by an unidentified figure standing in front of it. Lady Cousland promptly grabs her great sword with one hand and with the other gives Sirius a signal to stay calm and they both hide behind a large tree, alert. She leans over to glimpse the stranger, trying to detect a possibly threat. He's facing the lake, still she can identify him as a human. A male – yes, definitely a male. A young man with short light hair–

_Maker's breath!_

She'd be able to recognize that coppery sexy nape everywhere.

_Alistair._

Alice's heart jumps wildly against her ribs as soon as she realizes that the man of her dreams is just a few steps away from her, and he is wearing only a pair of trousers and nothing else – by the way he is dripping he probably just had a bath.

Tortuously slowly, she sheathes her sword back over her shoulder and she rests her cheek on the tree trunk, unable to move her eyes away from him. She just stays there, enraptured by him.

Even if she hasn't… licked any lamppost in winter – as she confessed to him when she was drunk – given that she grew up along with a lot of young squires as friends, she has a certain familiarity with the male anatomy. Well, at least with the part that is still considered 'safe' for a good-mannered lady of course. Hence, she's quite sure she never saw any other lad as handsome and perfect as Alistair.

He's tall, with a slender yet well-built body and neat skin almost unblemished – thanks to the heavy armors he usually wears – that is now shining under the last remnants of sunlight, highlighting is gorgeous features.

Lady Cousland's breath is caught into her throat at the sight of his flawless back, tensing as he raises both his arms towards his head, his strong hands brushing his wet hair to ruffle it.

How would it feel to sink her fingers into those auburn strands?

At his movements, myriads of drops of water slide along the length of his sexy chest.

How would it feel to trace every single taut muscle with her digits?

Then she wonders about the parts she's not able to admire now…

How would it feel to caress his abdominals? Would she find the same blonde hair on his pectoral?

As she notices a small bead slipping down his spine, she imagines herself running her tongue over its path.

How would it feel to taste his smooth skin? Would he thrill under her touch?

The bead disappears inside his trousers, drawing her attention over his fine and solid rear. The soaked cloth is clinging on it, leaving little to the imagination.

How would it feel to grab that amazing bottom with her hands while he's making love to her?

Her knees are giving up under the shivers of pure desire that are shaking her up to her core. She senses her blood boiling into her veins, her need for him almost unbearable.

Alice inhales deeply, trying to hold back her flustering, but all that comes out from her mouth is a strangled gasp that reaches the young man's ears, who startles surprised and begins to turn around towards her. Thanks the Maker she manages to hide again behind the tree just in time to avoid being caught by him.

"Is anybody out there?" he asks out loud, and his known voice rouses Sirius' attention.

"No–" Lady Cousland mutters to her mabari in vain, because he's already toddling joyful on his way to the lakeshore.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?"

Damn it. He is a war dog, he's supposed to be distrustful of anyone but his mistress. So why, for Andraste's sake, does he act so friendly with the other Warden?

"Yes yes, good boy." Alistair chuckles and the mabari barks smug. "But hey… Are you in there alone?"

_Oh-oh…_

"Alice?"

_Nononononono… Maker help me! I have to preserve the last remnants of dignity I still have! Please!_

She huddles up against the trunk, doing her best to conceal herself. She wouldn't survive at the embarrassment, if he finds out that she was spying on him, her cheeks flushed and her hands sweating for her inappropriate hunger for him.

"Sirius? Where is your mistress?"

_Damn you Sirius don't you even…_

Thankfully, in that very moment, a confuse noise comes out from the other side of the forest, and the dog rushes growling towards its source. The sound of footsteps on the sand warns the girl that Alistair is following him. "Sirius!"

Without even thinking about it twice, Lady Cousland starts to run away faster than she ever did in her whole life. She doesn't stop a second, not until she reaches the camp, sweating and panting uncontrollably.

"Alice… Is everything ok?" Leliana's voice calls her as she approaches the campfire.

"Y–yes…" she stammers, her breathing erratic.

"Hey, calm down." The bard gets near her, handling her a mug. "Here, drink it."

"Thank–thank you." The blonde woman grabs it, but a strange scent comes out from it "What–what is it?"

"It's wine. Wynne offered it to me."

"Wait– What? Wine? Alcohol? Maker! No– No! Thank you, Leliana. I'm– I'm ok now. I just– I just need to rest." And she disappears inside her tent.


	5. Rose

**4. Rose**

Lady Cousland spends the rest of the evening sitting on her own, away from the rest of the party. She can't stop pondering about what happened at the lake, all her licentious fantasies about Alistair that almost caught her out.

Who does she want to deceive? This is not just a crush: she's got it bad for him. Very bad.

She looks at the stars in the sky, sighing. What is she supposed to do now? She has to dismiss this sentiment that is growing inside her before it's too late.

Abruptly, a faint rustle announces her the arrival of someone at her side. "Alice…?"

Maker preserves her! Only his sexy voice pronouncing her name is enough to make her trembling delighted.

"Oh. Hi Alistair." She bends her head to look at him and immediately her heartbeats quicken.

"Are– Are you ok?" he asks, a shade of concern darkens his gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Yes, I am." She smiles at him. "I'm just– I'm just tired, you know."

"I see." He brushes his nape bashful. "Well, I'll leave you alone then."

"No!" she almost yells. She may be damned, but she wants to be with him as much as possible, if only as a friend – even if it'd hurt her. "I'd like you to stay, if you want to."

He gives her a large happy grin that makes her stomach twisting thrilled, and he sits down next to her.

"Today Sirius chased me in the forest." He grins. "I think he likes me."

_As his mistress does._ Perhaps the mabari is a chip off the old block, after all.

"I bet he does. But, I am afraid he does not like you as much as he likes Morrigan." She teases him.

"Blast it!" He curses, shaking one of his fists theatrically and she laughs amused.

Yes, this is definitely what she needs most – being at his side, no matter what happens between the two of them.

Suddenly, their sights meet, their faces just a few inches away from each other, and all her good intentions get screwed up. She feels like she could lose herself into his charming hazel eyes that are glancing into hers so intensely that she has to fight back a moan. His expression is grave and incomprehensible, like he's focused on reading the depths of her mind, her heart, her soul.

They stay still for a few seconds – or maybe hours – until Alistair finally turns his head and coughs embarrassed, allowing Lady Cousland to release the breath she didn't notice she was holding.

What did just happen? Was it just her fantasy, or–

"Here, look at this." He interrupts her thoughts, dropping something in her hands. "Do you know what this is?"

She glimpses down and a little gasp escapes from her lips as she notices the lovely crimson rose he just gave her. Before she could start fantasize over the meaning of his gesture, she replies the way she knows he'd prefer, that is joking. "Your new weapon of choice?"

He bursts into laughter. "Yes, that's right. Watch as I trash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" He says in a swallow, gesticulating. "Or, you know, it could be just a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison."

She brushes her index over one of its petals in awe. "You've been thumbing that flower for a while, don't you?"

He nods. "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'… I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."

"Why–why are you telling me this?" Alice keeps staring at the flower, both excited and scared by what his next answer would be.

"I thought that I might… give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

Her heart almost explodes at his words. Did he just say he considers her beautiful?

She opens her mouth to speak then she closes it, taking a moment to calm herself down before she could risk spoiling everything by talking too much. Perhaps the best way is going on being playful? "Feeling a little thorny, are we?"

Yes, his hearty chuckles prove she was right. "Wow. 'She'll never see through that,' I told myself. Boy was I wrong."

"You don't have to underestimate me." She pokes him, smirking. "Thank you, Alistair. That's a lovely thought."

"I'm glad you like it. I was just thinking… here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, now a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy." He sighs gloomy. "I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this… darkness."

Oh Maker. A few minutes ago she was struggling with the painful idea that he could be not interested in her. Then he shows up and… Damn! How is she supposed to not pounce on him in this very moment?

_Focus, Alice._

"So… Are we married now?"

"Ha!" He leaps up amused. "You won't land me that easily, woman! I know I'm quite the prize, after all, no need to start crying on me or anything!"

After he stops laughing, he carries on his speech. "I guess it was, uh– just a stupid impulse. I don't know, was it the wrong one?"

_Andraste's mercy! Not the puppy eyes! Please!_

"N–no, it wasn't–" Her voice crackles. "Thank you, Alistair."

"I'm glad you like it. Now…" He clears his throat. "If we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits… I'd appreciate it."

_Ok. Wait– What?_

Alice freezes on her spot, doing her best to not shudder. For a whole second she thinks all her fantasies would become true, the butterflies into her belly fluttering maddened. "Sounds good. Off with the armor, then."

"Ah!" he exclaims, "Bluff called! Damn! She saw right through me!"

"Why must it be a bluff?" she replies, not sure she managed to hide her disappointment.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a bluff…" Alistair is not smiling anymore. "Well, I suppose we _are_ in the camp… The tents… right over there. This is true…"

Here he is, the Chantry boy showing up again, but this time the young lady doesn't get bothered by him. "You're so cute when you're bashful…" And she means it.

"I'll be–" He cackles. "I'll be standing over here until the blushing stops. Just to be, uh– safe. You know how it is."

Glancing at his back as he flies off, Alice feels light-headed. She can barely believe that all her fears about Alistair were unfounded. He gave her a rose, he told her she's beautiful, rare and wonderful, and he also proved he's attracted by her.

He might have escaped from her tonight, but this is only the beginning for the two of them.

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOTES: Thank you all for your reviews, they really make my day!<strong>_

_**To Anonymous, don't worry I'll not let you down! ;)**_  
><em><strong>The rest of the fic is already written (7 chapters in all), and I also started the second part (I'll post it as a brand new fic due to more… mature content! ;) )<strong>_

_**I hope you'll keep reading my writings, and please continue reviewing ok? :D**_


	6. Jealousy

**5. Jealousy**

"Come on, Leliana! Play another song!" Alice Cousland incites the bard thrilled.

This evening the little fellowship is in a mood for party: they just managed to save the life of the young Connor Guerrin, together with the whole city of Redcliffe. There is still a lot of things to do, but it feels good that at least they were able to save something, no matter how small.

Therefore, all the people in the camp is now happily celebrating sitting around the campfire.

Well, actually there's at least one person who is not that much cheerful.

Alistair is eating his meal in silence, his eyes locked on the other Warden's face in front of him. Of course he's relieved and satisfied about how things ended up today – he owed Arl Eamon that much, though he's still worried about his health. Yet, this is not his main concern at the moment.

"Oh please, you don't think I'd believe you're the one who killed that famous pirate, do you?" Lady Cousland's mellifluous voice echoes in the air as she pokes Zevran's arm jokingly.

"Indeed I do, mia cara!" the assassin answers with a mischievous grin that makes Alistair's stomach coil with rage.

_Maker, I hate that elf._

He can't really wrap his head around the fact that Alice accepted to spare Zevran's life and to take him with them. Actually, she keeps recruiting the strangest people, and every time he tries to question her, she always replies that "We need all help we can get."

Wynne, Leliana, Sten… even the damned witch Morringan. Eventually they're showing up being useful as fighters and as comrades. But recruiting Zevran, an assassin who has been paid to kill them, the last two Grey Wardens of Ferelden… No, this is too much. This is madness!

"True story. I swear to you, mia bella." The elf's silly speech is awarded by another excited giggle from the woman, which acts like a kick into Alistair's guts.

Those lovely laughs… they should be only for _him_.

Just a few days ago he finally managed to give her the rose he had found in Lothering, telling her that she is as beautiful, rare and precious as that flower. He's been fiddling with it for so long fearing it was a silly idea. On the contrary, she seemed to appreciate it a lot. That very night he was not able to sleep due the emotion, his mind so overwhelmed by his feelings towards her.

Then, the next morning, they went through the Antivian Crows' ambush, and from that moment that damned… sneaky… opportunist… elven butcher… with his ridiculous stupid accent… started to chase his beloved Lady Cousland. This evening Alistair has been barely able to thank her for what she did for Eamon's family before Zevran managed to catch her attention. And – Andraste's flaming sword! She does not look annoyed by him, not at all.

"Ok, I'm going to pretend I do believe you." Alice keeps chuckling. "Now tell me another story."

Why… Why does she like listening to his absurd tales about his presumed adventures? Why does she? Why–

Oh Maker… does she _like him_?

A freezing chill goes down the former Templar's spine at the idea. Perhaps he acted too much hesitant toward his fellow Warden. Is it too late for him now?

"Oh, the fire is running out of brushwood," Wynne says, stirring him from his thoughts. He glares one more time to Alice and Zevran and then gets up, sighing defeated. He needs to go away from them. "Leave it to me." And he rushes towards the forest.

He strolls quickly through the vegetation, almost tripping several times, distracted by his attempt to put as much distance as possible between him and the camp. At last, when he feels safe, hearing no more noises around him, he halts his pace and closes his eyes inhaling deeply.

One… Two… Three…

No, it doesn't help to chase away the anguish inside his chest. The thought that he might have wasted his chance with the woman of his dreams is like a hammer that's squashing Alistair's poor heart.

"Alice…"

He murmurs her name like a Chant, while images of her gorgeous face keeps appearing in front of his eyes. It seems like years since the last time he saw her full rosy lips curling up into that lovely smile that makes his knees weak. The same lips that he desperately longs to sense against his. Andraste's mercy, he would do anything for the chance to caress her soft skin, to smell the scent of her curly hair, to hold her small but strong body into his arms, to savor the taste of her mouth… But he would probably never be able to do it, thanks his damned clumsiness!

A terrible rage is now burning inside him, making him gritting his teeth and clenching his fists.

"Perhaps Morringan is right. I'm just a useless… stupid… Chantry boy!" he growls out loud, and without realizing what he's doing, he punches the tree in front of him, hard.

"OUCH!" he shouts as a stab of pain goes through his entire right arm – he forgot that he's not wearing his heavy armor and his hand was bare when he hit the trunk.

_I AM a damned fool!_ He thinks while holding back his curses.

"Alistair!" Suddenly the ache disappears as he hears the sweetest voice in the whole Thedas calling him. "What happened?"

Worried it could be only an illusion, the young man turns slowly to look behind him, but there she is, Lady Cousland staring at him full of concern.

"Maker's breath but you're bleeding!" she exclaims when she grabs his hand in hers and she examines his knuckles. "Are you trying to chop wood with your fists?"

His attempt to answer to her fails miserably, all his attention caught by the warmth of her fingers entwined with his. It feels so good...

"We must go back to the camp, so that Wynne can heal you."

"N-n-no–" he stammers, "I'm fine. It's– It's just a scratch."

The girl puffs, shaking her head. "Here, let me bandage it."

Alistair stays still, letting her taking care of his wound, unable to overcome the shock of having her in front of him right now.

"Done." she states, "But please, let Wynne have a look at it as soon as possible."

He nods and finally finds the courage to talk to her. "Wh-what are you– doing here?"

Alice raises an eyebrow, baffled. "I am… Following you?"

"Following me? Why?" He can't hide his surprise.

"I noticed you went to look for some brushwood, so I thought I might… come with you…" Her tone is now uncertain. "But you were running so fast, I couldn't reach you until now."

"Oh. And why did you want to…?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you." She heaves a sigh. "I was so sorry we couldn't finish our chat before, when Zevran interrupted us."

"Blasted elf." Alistair mutters annoyed.

"Mhmh. You really don't like him, do you?"

"Why shouldn't I? He's just an opportunistic assassin hired to kill us Grey Wardens, that right after his defeat changed into our most loyal friend! I _adore_ him, indeed!" he replies, sarcastically, "Not to mention the lustful way he stares at you–" Oh no, this was too much.

"Ah!" She opens her eyes wide, amazed. "So _this_ is the problem! You are _jealous_!"

"W-What?" He startles. "N-no! I-I'm not–"

"Alistair." She cuts him off. "You have nothing to worry about. I don't mind about our fellow assassin, not in _that_ way."

The man glances at her agape, barely believing that this is happening. Is she telling him she does not care about Zevran because she likes him?

_Stop it, don't fool yourself now or you'll get hurt even more, stupid man._

"He just…" the other Warden continues, "Somehow he reminds me of home."

"Home? Do you mean Highever?"

"Yeah. My brother's bride Oriana was from Antiva. She was like a real sister to me, the best friend and confident I ever had."

Alistair listens to her fascinated – this is the very first time she says something about her family.

"I– I miss her too much. So, listening to Zevran's accent as he talks about his lands… I feel like she's back with me, at least for a while. I know it's silly–"

"No, it's not silly at all," he reassures her.

"Thank you. But that's all. I don't have any other kind of interest towards Zevran, I swear."

Now the young man is feeling guilt, damned guilt; he spent the whole evening pouting and cursing against the assassin, devoured by his jealousy, while Lady Cousland was just cherishing the moment, thinking about her lost family. He is a bad bad person!

"I am sorry Alice, I didn't–"

"There's nothing to apologize, Alistair." She gives him the gorgeous smile he madly loves.

_Maker's breath, I am really crazy about her._

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOTES: sorry for the delay, I've been quite busy because of my graduation, but now it's done!<strong>_

_**Thank you all so much for reading, following and reviewing my story, I hope you're going to like this and the last chapter as well! :3**_


	7. Kiss

**6. Kiss**

The dark forest is quiet, the gentle rustle of the leaves weaving at the night breeze surrounds the two last Grey Wardens of Ferelden as they keep staring into each other's eyes, enraptured.

After a while, Alice finally breaks the silence. "I have something for you."

"For– For me?" Alistair asks amazed as she drops her gift on his hand. It is a shining silver necklace with an oval pendant that–

"No. It… It can't be!" he exclaims, "This… this is my mother's amulet. Yes. It has to be!" He watches it closely, blinking unable to believe in what he's seeing. "But why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?"

"I found it in Redcliffe castle, in the study." The woman explains.

"Oh. The Arl's study? Then he must have… found the amulet after I threw it at the wall." The memory of that awful day is still bright clear in his mind. "And he repaired it and kept it? I don't understand, why would he do that?"

Lady Cousland brushes his arm fondly. "Perhaps you mean more to him than you think."

"I… guess you could be right. We never really talked that much, and then the way I left…" A new pang of guilt shakes his guts; he has not been fair with Eamon. "Thank you. I mean it. I… thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this. If he recovers from his… WHEN he recovers, that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago." He spent his whole life regretting his childish action, persuaded that nobody in Redcliffe and probably anywhere else cared about him. "Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow. I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things."

Once again, his favorite charming smile appears on Alice's face, enlightening her gorgeous features. "Of course I remembered. You're special to me."

"Oh." Despite him usually being very loquacious, now he's definitely speechless. "So… Is this the part where the music starts and we begin dancing? Because I'm game. Where's the minstrels?"

The girl gives a light chuckle, but only a faint echo of her real heartily laughs, her brows slightly frowned. Suddenly he realizes he's risking to spoil the situation between the two of them all over again and he holds back a curse against himself.

How could he be so blind? She left the little party at the camp to follow him in the forest to talk to him and she also found the most important memento he ever had of his mother, telling to him he's special to her. And all he could do was to be ironical about it? Andraste's mercy, what's wrong with him?

"Well…" She adjusts a soft lock of her blond hair behind her ear, a gesture that Alistair came to know she makes when she's embarrassed. "We should probably go back now. Tomorrow there will be another day of fights, right?"

_Another day of fights… Another day without her knowing my feelings for her?_ Alistair swallows hard, trying to hide the chills going down his spine. He likes Alice so much it hurts, but he's completely frightened by the idea of her refusal, so he continues avoiding to face her.

Now her shining golden eyes are staring into his, hopefully, clearly waiting for something more than just a simple nod, and he is dying to kiss her with all the passion he has into his body. Once more their gazes are locked into each other. The tension between the two of them is almost unbearable, and when she darts out the tip of her tongue to wet her upper lip, every inch of his being screams to him to stop acting like a wuss and to claim her mouth with his.

Trembling as a feather blown by the wind, Alistair tries to reach towards her, but his muscles are frozen and he's unable to move. Panicked he starts to babble dumbly,_ again_. "We… should… go back… Riiight…"

A shade of sadness darkens Lady Cousland's beautiful face, who ends up interrupting their eye contact and turning to walk back to their camp. With awful pain in his heart, the young man follows her and a heavy silence weighs over them. He stays a few steps behind her, not venturing to deal with her anymore, attempting to be pleased only to admire her from afar, as he always did since now.

Would it be enough for him?

Would he ever be happy worshipping her in hiding?

Would he ever be happy without telling her how much she means to him?

Would he ever be happy without knowing how it feels to have her into his arms?

Suddenly Alice trips on a bulging rock, and while she fumbles to regain her balance, the sway of her hips under the thin linen cloth she's wearing makes Alistair's mouth go dry.

Andraste's flaming sword, he will not be happy without her, not at all. He wants her so badly.

Faint noises from the distance warn him they're getting near the camp and he freaks out, conscious that this could be the very last opportunity for him to talk to her alone – his last opportunity to find the happiness he longs so desperately.

The thing is… there is the chance he'd be rejected by the woman of his dreams. Yet, there's also a tiny… illogical… unimaginable… chance that she could reciprocate his feelings.

Isn't this chance worth the risk?

The male Warden halts all of sudden, stricken by this new revelation: _Alice_ is definitely worth this risk.

"Alistair? Is everything ok?" She stops as well, glancing at him over her shoulder.

_Come on, you Chantry boy. You've been trained to deal with apostates, maleficarum, darkspawn, archdemons… You can do it._

His breath erratic, his hands are sweating. But he will escape no more.

"I…" He clears his throat, trying to calm down his terrible panic. "Lately I've been thinking about all this time we've spent together… you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… Will you miss it once it's over?"

_Maker helps me! What am I saying?_

Lady Cousland approaches him, looking at him with an uncertain and mistrustful expression. Then she grins mischievously. "Miss the constant battles? Or miss you?"

_There we are. Maybe I should… No, I have to carry on, I can't stop now._

He gulps, completely frightened. "I know it… might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to… care for you. A great deal." He says it in a swallow, his gaze focused on his feet, not daring to glimpse at her. "I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself…"

Hearing no answer from her, he finally rises his head to give her a shy smile. "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"

Alice opens her eyes wide in surprise, while a lovely hue of pink colors her cheeks. "I… I think I already do."

Alistair's legs almost buckle at her reply, and his mind goes blank; he cannot fathom the fact that she didn't refuse him – actually, she said she cares about him as well. He isn't dreaming, is he?

For a split second a new silly line shows off into his mind – _So I fooled you, did I?_ – but thankfully he bites it back, and in a blink of an eye he shortens the distance between the two of them. Their faces are now only a few inches away, he can sense her warm breath on his chin. Without thinking about it twice, he bends forward to kiss her.

Their mouths meet gingerly at first; both of them clearly do not know how it should work. His thin lips move tentative and slowly over her rosy ones, relishing their softness, while his heart pounds like an hammer into his chest. Is this really happening?

After a few seconds, he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on hers, not ready to let her go. "That… that wasn't too soon, was it?"

Alice brushes playfully her nose against his. "I don't know… I need more testing to be sure."

Her content giggles are the most captivating sound Alistair ever listened to, and the thought _he_ is the one who's causing them, makes him drunk with joy. "Well, I'll have to arrange that, then… won't I?"

Why should he wait?

He feels like a big idiot while all his distressing fears are being washed away by this fabulous, kind and lovely creature in front of him. He is completely mad about her, and he can barely believe she likes him too. But there she is, apparently unwilling to draw herself apart from him as well.

Cautiously, she leans her hands over his broad chest, and he grabs her face to stare deeply into her charming eyes, trying to get his strong sentiments across to her with no words, only his adoring look. Then, when he notices the same affection mirroring into her amber shining globes, his self-control snaps and he crushes his mouth on hers again.

This time he kisses her more passionately, and Lady Cousland is obliging, following all his movements like she craved for this as much as he did. Their lips slide demanding over each other, bringing Alistair near the edge. He lowers his left arm to surround her waist, pulling her body flush against his, while he keeps brushing the soft skin of her cheek with his other hand.

Her warmth and her sweet scent soon go straight to the man's head, and he can restrain himself no more, his need to taste her unbearable by now. His tongue slips from his slightly parted lips, moving to trace the shape of hers, and Alice releases a low delighted sigh as she sinks her fingers into the short coppery hair above his nape.

Inadvertently, he begins to push to gain access to her mouth, but she surrenders quickly, and a wave of ecstasy shakes them both as their tips meet and start to dance together.

Andraste preserves him, but just a try and he already knows he'll be addicted to her wonderful sweet taste for the rest of his life.

They continue their breathtaking kiss for a while, their tongues are tangling and twisting, making them moaning with pleasure. When they run out of air completely, the warrior reluctantly lets go of her, whimpering for the loss of the contact as he moves back away from her.

He gazes at her flushed face, her lips swollen because of his attention. "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful." he murmurs, still panting, "I am a lucky man."

The girl raises her right arm to caress his cheek lovingly; the happiness showed by her splendid smile is nothing short of amazing. "Not as much as I am a lucky woman to have found you, Alistair."

Thankfully the time he spent training as a Templar gave him a great amount of self-control, yet he has to fight incredibly hard against his urge to pounce on her once more.

He coughs embarrassed. "Now let's back to… what we were up to before. Lest I forget why we're here."

"Yes, you're right." she agrees, "But… Wait! The brushwood!"

They burst into laughter, realizing how they both were too focused on each other to remember their task.

"Well, I guess we have to try to find something. Otherwise our companions will die by cold. Not that the idea of getting rid of Zevran doesn't appeal me." Alistair jokes.

Alice pokes his shoulder and then grabs his hand into hers. "Let's go, my prince."

He might have been a sad royal bastard for most part of his life, but now he knows he is a very lucky one. And glimpsing at his fingers entwined with hers, all he can think about is that he hopes he'd never have to leave that hand anymore.

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOTES: This is the last chapter, thank you for reading, liking and reviewing! :D<strong>_

_**Soon I'll post the second part, that will contain more... mature content! So stay tuned! ;)**_


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